


you've done it again, Virginia

by napricot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Post-Avengers Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napricot/pseuds/napricot
Summary: When Morgan goes missing on their mother-daughter vacation to Iceland, Pepper gets some unexpected and very welcome help from Valkyrie to find her.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Pepper Potts
Comments: 27
Kudos: 107
Collections: CAILURE EXCHANGE 2020





	you've done it again, Virginia

**Author's Note:**

> FOR #1
> 
> Title from The National song of the same name. For #1, hope you like this bb!

Generally speaking, Pepper doesn’t take advantage of being Tony Stark’s widow. The world would make a lot of allowances for the grieving widow of the man who defeated Thanos and helped save the universe, but all Pepper wants is to be able to grieve him in private and raise their child in peace and safety, and to help rebuild the world without people constantly asking her if she’s doing it all for Tony. And yes, she _is_ doing it for him—he died to save this world, you can be sure Pepper’s not going to let it go to shit after that—but she’s also doing it because it’s the right thing to do, because she has to put the Stark wealth to good use rather than just hoard it.

But when it comes to their daughter? Pepper’s not above playing the _I’m Iron Man’s widow_ card. Hell, Pepper would do _anything_ for Morgan. And that includes assembling the Avengers because she can’t find Morgan.

“What? Morgan’s missing?” asks Jim, over the sound of explosions. “Are you still in Iceland?”

“Yes, we left Reykjavik last night, and we just got to the cabin, and I was, you know, unpacking everything, and I told Morgan to play and explore until I was done and then we’d go to the hot springs together, and I told her, I _told_ her not to go far, to always keep the cabin in sight, but it’s been an hour and I can’t find her anywhere, and I don’t have the Rescue armor with me, so I really need all of the Avengers here right now for a search, Jim. Like, right now.”

“Pep, breathe. You said it’s only been an hour?”

It takes all of Pepper’s willpower not to shriek _only?!_

“She’s missed lunch! We were going to have her favorite, but she’s missed lunch, and I can’t find her, and I don’t know if she’s been kidnapped, or if she fell off a cliff, and I _cannot_ lose my baby, Jim, I really, really can’t—”

“She’s probably just lost nearby or hiding or something, it’ll be alright, okay? Just, uh, we’re all kinda busy here with the—” Another explosion. “—portals and robots situation in Montana—”

“What about Dr. Strange? He can—he can do magic, and find her—”

“He’s in another dimension or something right now—just—hang on, let me see who could—” There’s a pause, and some unintelligible shouting, before Jim continues, “Hey, Valkyrie’s not far from you, I’ll get in touch with her, okay? She’ll be there soon, just—sit tight, Pepper, we’ll find Morgan, I promise.”

“Wait, _Valkyrie_? As in, the _king of New Asgard_ —”

But before she can finish, Jim’s line cuts out. Which is just great. Pepper screams in sheer frustration, just a little. But then she breathes, nice and slowly, in and out, until the urge to scream and cry fades. Morgan needs Pepper to find her, not to panic. So she goes back to scouring the picturesque and too-empty landscape surrounding this remote Icelandic cottage for her daughter.

The cabin, painted an eye-catching black against the green grass and overcast skies, is the only building in sight, the only building for _miles_. Pepper had picked it for that exact reason; well, that and the apparently astonishing view of the Northern Lights, and the nearby volcano. Morgan’s developed an absolute obsession with volcanos, thankfully this particular volcano is far enough in the distance that Morgan wouldn’t have tried to go there on her own, but that doesn’t leave many places for Morgan to have gone. There are only a few gently sloping, short hills in the immediate area around the cabin, and no wildlife but some birds.

Pepper’s just found what she thinks is her daughter’s footprint—or maybe it’s a deer’s hoof print? Does Iceland even have deer? Or maybe it’s from a pony, there are supposed to herds of them around here. Listen, wilderness tracking and survival are not among Pepper’s many skills—when Valkyrie arrives, flying in on the back of a literal pegasus. It’s mostly cloudy out, but the afternoon sun still halos her somehow, like in the absence of a crown, the world itself will step in to crown the King of Asgard. Even in a chunky, cream-colored knit sweater and worn jeans, Valkyrie looks like some kind of warrior goddess. Probably that’s the sheathed sword slung across her back talking, not to mention the whole riding a pegasus situation.

“Pepper?” calls out Valkyrie. “Rhodes sent me, he said your daughter’s missing?”

“Yes! I—” Pepper rushes towards her, thinks better of it—that pegasus probably needs some space to land—and waves awkwardly. Dangit, should she have bowed or curtsied or something instead? Pepper’s never been on such formal terms with Thor, but maybe Valkyrie would prefer—“Yes, thank you so much for coming so quickly, Your Highness.”

Valkyrie raises one perfect eyebrow, and sets her pegasus gently down on the ground. “Yeah, no, none of that Your Highness business. We’ve fought together on the battlefield, haven’t we? You’re practically one of my fellow Valkyries,” she says as she dismounts with an easy leap and a grin, and Pepper curses her pale complexion for the blush she knows is rising on her cheeks now. “So, your daughter—Morgan, right?—where did you last see her?”

Pepper gives Valkyrie all of the details and more besides, and follows her as she walks around the property. It’s only a small cabin, with only a couple of rooms, nestled cozily in Iceland’s rolling green hills, and an hour and a half’s drive from the nearest small town. Pepper had picked it because she’d wanted to get her and Morgan away from the press of attention back in the US. She’d wanted it to be just the two of them for a little while, on their own out somewhere beautiful and remote, somewhere without any painful memories, where they could just be Pepper and Morgan, and not Tony Stark’s widow and orphan. A place where they could make new, happy memories as mother and daughter. It was a stupid idea. Pepper really should’ve picked a less remote location, or she should’ve brought Happy along.

“Well, she’s a small human child, she can’t have got far,” concludes Valkyrie once Pepper’s told her everything and she’s taken a cursory look around, and her no-nonsense tone is an immense comfort to Pepper’s nerves. “Let me do a flyover, see if I can’t spot her from the air. You said she’s wearing a yellow jacket? Should be easy to spot. You wait here in case she comes back.”

So Pepper waits and paces and watches as Valkyrie flies in expanding circles around the cabin. It only takes ten minutes or so before the pegasus wheels gracefully back towards Pepper and the cabin, landing with feather lightness beside Pepper. Valkyrie offers her a hand up.

“You found her?” asks Pepper, heart in her throat.

“I found one of the hidden folks’ circles,” says Valkyrie. “Your daughter’s probably playing with them, or they might know where she is.”

And oh, right. The cottage listing _had_ mentioned something about the hidden folk, but Pepper had taken it as superstition. Which, in retrospect, was pretty dumb, given the rest of Pepper’s life experience. Fairies and elves might as well exist along with all the sorcerers and aliens and gods and alien gods, sure, why not. Pepper doesn’t care how cute or harmless or whatever these particular fairies and/or elves are though, she will _crush_ them if they’ve hurt a hair on her precious baby’s head. Pepper takes Valkyrie’s hand, and before she knows it, she’s sitting astride the pegasus behind Valkyrie.

“Hold on!” says Valkyrie, so Pepper grips tight with her thighs and winds her arms around Valkyrie’s trim waist as they take to the sky.

Pepper’s too worried about Morgan to marvel over the flight, though she does notice that the ride is far smoother than the trot of a horse. From this close, she can hear the beat of the pegasus’s powerful wings, the great whooshing sound as they move the air. In better circumstances, Pepper would be enjoying the hell out of a flight on a pegasus, even if it’s a short flight. Instead she has worst case scenarios running through her head of Morgan kidnapped or hurt or eaten by Iceland’s most fearsome predator—which, Pepper does not know what that is, but she’s sure Iceland must have some manner of dangerous animal. Or, god, what if this is a Labyrinth situation and Morgan has been stolen away by the elves and Pepper’s going to have to go on some quest to save her—

Thankfully, after only a few minutes of flying and Pepper catastrophizing, Valkyrie sets them down beside a ring of stones on a low hill not far from the cabin. The long grasses surrounding the stones sway in the chilly breeze, and yet Pepper’s sure that’s not why she feels a shiver run down her back.

“Morgan?” she calls out. “Morgan, sweetie, are you here?”

Valkyrie shakes her head, and touches Pepper’s shoulder.

“Let me,” she says, then she steps forward into the ring of stones. Between one moment and the next, her posture has shifted, from the loose readiness of a warrior to something even more stern and powerful, her shoulders set back and her spine straight, a stubborn and haughty tilt to her chin. “Oy! Little elves! Show yourselves to the rightful King of Asgard, Brunnhilde the Last Valkyrie! I seek the child Morgan Stark, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll give her back to us or tell us where she is!”

Only the soft hush-hush of the wind through the grasses answers Valkyrie. She pulls her sword free from the sheath on her back. For all that Valkyrie’s dressed like the most beautiful farmer in the world with her thick sweater, sturdy jeans, and mud-splattered boots, in this moment, she looks every inch the Valkyrie and King of Asgard. Pepper can’t help but hold her breath, waiting.

“That was me asking nicely, little elves,” she says, with poisonous sweetness. “You don’t want to see me asking the other way.”

There’s a tinkling sound like bells, and Morgan appears in the stone circle with a faint popping noise.

“Mommy!” she says, all smiles, and Pepper rushes forward to take her in her arms.

“Oh my god, Morgan, are you alright?” Morgan just giggles, as if she hasn’t given her mother the scare of her life, and Pepper gives her a frantic once-over, but Morgan looks fine, just the same as she had a couple of hours ago, only with some twigs and grass in her now mussed hair. “I told you not to go too far!”

“I could still see the cabin, Mommy!” protests Morgan. “But I met these little elves, and they invited me to tea, and you gotta accept invitations, it’s only polite—”

Valkyrie hums and smiles down at Morgan, and it’s a far sweeter and more genuine smile than Pepper’s ever seen on Valkyrie’s face.

“Oh little one, never accept strange elves’ invitations,” she tells Morgan, and Morgan’s eyes go wide, her little mouth opening to form a perfect o as she takes in Valkyrie and her winged steed.

“Morgan, this is Valkyrie, the King of Asgard. She helped me find you.”

“Is that a _pegasus_?” asks Morgan.

“Morgan! Manners!”

“Is that a pegasus Mrs. Valkyrie King of Asgard, hi I’m Morgan, nice to meet you,” says Morgan in one rush of words that makes Valkyrie laugh. Valkyrie has a really nice laugh, simultaneously warm and musical.

“Hi Morgan,” she says. “And yes, that is a pegasus. You wanna ride her?”

“Yes please!”

They get Morgan situated on the pegasus, safe and snug between Pepper and Valkyrie, and then they take off, low to the ground at first, with Valkyrie glancing back at Pepper and Morgan to make sure they’re handling it alright, then higher when Morgan squeals in delight. Valkyrie definitely takes the long route back to the cabin, and Pepper doesn’t mind. The view is astonishing from up here, with the snow-dusted peak of the volcano rising in the distance, and the sparkle of rivers and fjords set against all the green and yellow grasses and dark stone, and every new sight makes Morgan gasp in delight. Pepper’s almost sorry when they land back at the cabin.

“Thank you so much,” she tells Valkyrie as Valkyrie hands Morgan down to her. “I owe you an enormous favor for this.”

Valkyrie shrugs and dismounts with easy grace. “It was my pleasure. It definitely beat moderating a dispute over sheep grazing grounds, so I think we’re even.”

“Can I at least offer you some tea? Or, does your pegasus need anything—”

The pegasus currently has its head lowered to let Morgan carefully pet its forelock, and Pepper has no idea what pegasi eat or anything, but surely someone around here has horses and things horses need, and that’s close enough, right?

“She’s fine,” says Valkyrie with a fond pat to the pegasus’s flank. “I won’t say no to some tea though.”

So Pepper invites Valkyrie inside the modest rental cottage. She takes a moment to get Morgan settled, this time with stern admonishments to stay inside and not go anywhere without an adult present, and no, elves don’t count as adults, elves count as _stranger danger,_ a lesson that Valkyrie is thankfully happy to expound upon until Morgan’s overcome with shyness and runs off to the bedroom. She manages to snap a quick photo before Morgan runs off, and she sends it along with a text to Jim to let him know Morgan’s fine.

Pepper busies herself in the tiny and unfamiliar kitchen, searching for tea things while she tries to make conversation with Valkyrie, who’s seated on the couch in the cottage’s single non-bathroom, non-bedroom room that serves as the kitchen, dining room, and living room. Thor would have seemed out of place there, always carrying that otherworldly godhood, but with her loose-limbed sprawl and her sword leaning against the umbrella stand, Valkyrie looks as if it’s exactly where she belongs.

Pepper’s never really talked to Valkyrie before, at least not outside the battlefield, and it gives Pepper a little jolt every time she glances over from her tea preparations to see her looking like any ordinary civilian. Well, not ordinary: even in a chunky gray knit sweater, Valkyrie is beautiful in a decidedly extraordinary way. In the light of battle, it had been a terrible sort of beauty, cold and furious, but here in this cozy kitchen, with curls escaping her becomingly messy braid, Valkyrie’s loveliness is downright inviting.

“How are things in New Asgard?” Pepper asks her.

“Good,” says Valkyrie. “We hear from Thor pretty often, and he thinks he might be able to find an uninhabited planet for us to resettle on.”

“Oh that’s great news,” says Pepper, smiling at Valkyrie from over her shoulder as she fills the electric kettle. “Not that Earth isn’t happy to have all of you! Just—I’m sure your people are eager for a new home that’s all your own.”

Valkyrie gives an elegant one-shouldered shrug. “I think being reminded that Asgard is a people, not a place, has done them some good. The old Asgard was built on blood and conquest. Nothing wrong with taking some time and care to make sure the new one isn’t.” Before Pepper can decide how to respond to that, Valkyrie asks, “And how are you doing? With the whole…heroic dead husband thing?”

The sheer bluntness startles Pepper into laughter. It’s been over a year and people are still walking on eggshells around her. As if she’s delicate. As if Pepper hadn’t always known this was coming. As if she hadn’t walked into marriage with Tony Stark, after the end of the damn world, with her eyes wide open.

Pepper’s been expecting to lose Tony from the moment she first had him.

That doesn’t make things much easier, no, but it does mean that by now her grief is more sweet than bitter, and it doesn’t seem like anyone understands that.

“I’m doing alright,” she tells Valkyrie. “Is it awful if I say it’s because it wasn’t a surprise? I always knew I’d lose Tony to Iron Man, one way or another. It’s just—it’s hardest when Morgan misses him. She’s just a child, you know? She doesn’t have the same context us adults do, it doesn’t matter to her that Daddy saved the world when she just wants him there to read her a bedtime story.”

That makes Pepper’s throat tighten, tears rising in her eyes, and she’s grateful for the excuse of the water boiling so she can dash the tears away in relative privacy as she steeps the tea. To her relief, when she looks back at Valkyrie, there’s no pity in her expression, no cloyingly sweet compassion. No, Valkyrie’s just looking at her, steady and solemn, a slight twist to her lips that speaks of wry and bitter empathy. For the first time in a long time, Pepper feels _seen_.

Oh, no one ignores Pepper Potts, no. She knows how to command attention, and her days of being the pretty executive assistant accessory are long behind her. But they’ve been replaced by being seen as mostly a symbol. Even Jim and Happy, who she loves, who are her family, look at her and see the loss of Tony. But Valkyrie? Valkyrie’s looking right at Pepper, only Pepper, exactly as she is: her face bare of makeup, her hair in the sloppy braid Morgan had put in that morning, her clothes more practical than flattering.

“You’re doing better than I was,” says Valkyrie, and Pepper startles. Before she can ask any questions, Valkyrie continues, “I spent a solid few centuries drowning my grief in drink.”

Pepper brings over their mugs of tea, and sits beside her on the squashy couch. “Sounds like Tony’s preferred grief-handling method. Did you want any milk or sugar with this?”

“Black’s fine,” says Valkyrie, and blows on the steaming surface of the tea.

They sip on their tea together in comfortable silence for a while, until Valkyrie says, “I’ve been meaning to tell you...you were pretty impressive, during the battle against Thanos.”

Pepper blinks in surprise and covers with a sip of too-hot tea. It’s the first time anyone’s complimented her on her role in that last battle against Thanos. Which isn’t a surprise, really, given that she lost her husband in that battle, but the compliment warms her anyway, especially coming from a warrior like Valkyrie.

“Thank you,” she says. “I’m not usually, you know, the fighting kind. But I had the Rescue armor, and I knew I couldn’t just sit at home for that battle, not knowing how much depended on it. I know I don’t have the skills of someone like you or General Okoye, but—”

“Well, that just makes you more brave, doesn’t it?” says Valkyrie, her tone matter of fact as her lips twitch upwards into the kind of smile that invites you in on a secret, and it makes Pepper smile back.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Mostly, every time I’ve ended up in one of these big fights, I’m just _furious_ ,” confesses Pepper.

“Then furious looks good on you,” Valkyrie says, and that sharing-a-secret smile of hers gets just a little bigger, her dark eyes steady as they hold Pepper’s gaze, and it’s like the warmth of the mug of tea cupped in Pepper’s hand is spreading up along her arms to her face and then along down her spine, and abruptly, Pepper realizes just what secret the lush curve of Valkyrie lips is inviting her to share.

Distantly, Pepper imagines this must be what trees feel like, on the first warm day after winter: all their once slow and frozen sap flowing warm and easy, green leaves unfurling under the sun’s renewed heat. It’s only some flirting, even it is coming from the King of Asgard, Pepper probably shouldn’t be feeling quite so hot and bothered about it, but it’s been _so long_. It’s been so long since anyone’s looked at her and seen something other than Iron Man’s widow or Morgan’s mother. Valkyrie’s looking at her like she’s just Pepper, like she’s Rescue, so Pepper looks back.

She sees a ridiculously beautiful alien warrior-woman king, sure, but she sees the brackets of grief around her generous mouth too, and the world-weariness in her eyes. She sees a woman bearing the heavy burden of leadership, and bearing it well. And Pepper sees someone who wants her, who first saw her on a battlefield and who doesn’t care whose damn widow she is.

So Pepper sets her mug of tea down on the coffee table, turns to Valkyrie, and kisses her.

Valkyrie’s lips are still smiling, and so, so soft as she makes this pleased and smug humming sound like she’s known this was coming. That makes Pepper even bolder. This isn’t a chaste thank you kiss, and she wants to make sure Valkyrie knows that, so she deepens the kiss, coaxing Valkyrie’s mouth to open for her, and when she does—oh, when she does, it’s like the fierce thrill of battle and flying on that pegasus while holding onto Valkyrie, it’s like a violent blooming, parts of Pepper that had quietly closed up tight and dark bursting open again with new growth towards the sun. Pepper’s _missed_ this: the heat of reckless connection, the messy and so satisfying process of getting to know someone through the movement of their lips and tongues, through their taste. She had a happy marriage, she did, but still, she’d missed this and being a widow doesn’t means she doesn’t still _want_.

Valkyrie can tell, maybe, because she brings a warm and calloused hand to Pepper’s cheek and keeps kissing her, wet and messy, until they’re both gasping. Pepper knows what it’s like to burn up from the inside out, and she feels a little like that’s happening now, only this time the heat is welcome.

Pepper would have kept going, if she hadn’t heard the clatter of Morgan making some mischief or another, but the reminder of her daughter makes her pull away, finally. This isn’t the time or place to keep necking wildly on the couch.

“Thank you, again,” Pepper tells Valkyrie, and Valkyrie smiles, slow and wicked, and so tempting that Pepper nearly whimpers.

“You are very welcome,” she says, then she glances out the window, where the sun is getting lower in the sky. At this altitude, it won’t be dark for hours and hours yet, but the afternoon is still growing long, and Valkyrie probably has people waiting on her in New Asgard. Pepper’s assumption is confirmed when Valkyrie says, “I have to get going.”

“Of course,” Pepper murmurs. “Let me see you out. Morgan! Come say goodbye to Valkyrie!”

Outside, they make their polite goodbyes, and Morgan actually curtseys—or tries to—to Valkyrie’s delight.

“Come visit me in New Asgard, after you leave Iceland,” says Valkyrie after she mounts her pegasus, and the sly curve of her smile leaves little doubt as to just what she means.

Pepper smiles back, still warmed enough by their kisses that the chilly breeze whipping across the hills doesn’t even make her shiver.

“It’s a date,” she says, and feels warmer still when even after Valkyrie takes flight, she looks back at Pepper.


End file.
